


Skin Deep

by ayumie



Category: Ragnarok (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Implied/Referenced Incest, Laurits Seier is Loki, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayumie/pseuds/ayumie
Summary: The obligatory 'shapeshifting!Laurits/Loki turns into a girl and Magne falls in love with her' fic. Somebody had to write it.
Relationships: Laurits Seier/Magne Seier
Kudos: 9





	Skin Deep

**Author's Note:**

> No idea how this one snuck up on me. I'm not even sure whether this still qualifies as slash. Or whether the ending works out. Well, it's Loki. It's bound to be complicated. Anyway, feedback is always adored!
> 
> Thanks to HotaruMuraki for being a wonderful beta-reader.

Magne paused at the edge of the trees, not sure what to do. He'd been spending a lot of time in the mountains trying to figure out the limits of his new powers, but he had rarely met anyone else out here. A girl was sprawling on the grassy mountainside, wearing nothing but a short summer dress. Her feet were bare and muddy and she didn't seem to have a backpack or even a jacket. She was … pretty. Long, dark curls tumbled in unruly waves around her face and shoulders, setting off pale, flawless skin and delicate features. Her body was as slim as Gry's and Magne couldn't help but look at the long stretch of her legs and the way her breasts pushed against the thin fabric of her dress. Feeling a flush rising, he quickly dropped his gaze. When he once more lifted his head, slanting blue eyes looked straight at him. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

The belated realization that he had been caught staring, made Magne's blush deepen. 

“I don't- Are you lost?”

The girl laughed as she pushed herself up to sit, a merry, tinkling sound that seemed to warm the air.

“Not really. Are you?”

Magne shook his head, unable to think of anything else to say. The girl was watching him, lips curling into a secretive smile that seemed oddly familiar. Where did she come from? Magne was sure that he had never seen her at school – and surely he would have noticed her even if they didn't have classes together. She was really pretty. Stepping into the clearing, Magne was suddenly uncomfortably aware that the hems of his jeans were fraying and he was wearing one of his oldest T-shirts, which, according to his brother, ought to be burned. Unsuccessfully brushing at bits of bark and moss clinging to the worn fabric, he cleared his throat.

“What's your name?”

The girl considered him for a moment and once again Magne got the impression that she was watching him closely, perhaps waiting for some kind of reaction. Finally she gave a tiny shrug.

“Linn.”

When it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything else, Magne fidgeted, fingers rubbing against the seam of his jeans. Linn was still looking up at him and something about the tilt of her head gave him the courage to move closer and sit down next to her. She didn't flinch or scoot away, her posture as relaxed as it had been since he had spotted her. Magne knew the way most strangers looked at him, knew all about being too big, too awkward, too tongue-tied to ever quite fit in. Only lately so much had changed and maybe there were some perks to being special, after all. He smiled.

“I'm Magne. I live in Edda just over that ridge. And, uh, down the mountain, obviously. You're not from around here, are you? I mean, I've never seen you in town...”

“My family rented a cabin somewhere – oh, somewhere back there,” she gestured vaguely towards the forested mountainside further inland. “They're all really into this kind of outdoorsy stuff. Like you, I suppose.”

There was wry amusement in Linn's voice and Magne couldn't help but notice that in spite of her derisive words, she smelled of the wild, of firs and earth and moss and tart, red berries. Watching her wriggle dirt-streaked toes, he smiled.

“So what are you doing out here, if you don't like the mountains?”

Not at all discomfited, she grinned back at him.

“Looking for a little peace and quiet. Small cabin. Way too many people.”

Magne nodded. A week into the summer holidays and already the house was starting to feel claustrophobic, which was kind of weird considering his Mom hadn't been able to take time off from work and Laurits was usually out doing whatever it was Laurits did.  
They sat quietly for a while. Magne didn't mind. It was mostly other people who didn't like the silence, preferring to fill it with chatter and expecting him to know all the right answers. Linn seemed to be perfectly comfortable, lying back down and shading her eyes to look up into the sky. When he spotted a buzzard circling overhead, Magne pointed it out. Linn followed his gaze and exclaimed in excitement as the raptor swooped and dived. When the buzzard winged off with a small mammal dangling from its claws, Linn got to her feet. 

“I've got to go.”

She didn't elaborate, but watching her fastidiously brush dry grass off her dress, Magne thought that her family was probably waiting for her or maybe she had promised to help her Mom or something. The ground was rough and strewn with pebbles and twigs, but in spite of her bare feet, her steps were fluid, graceful. At the edge of the trees she paused, casting an inquisitive glance over her shoulders. In the dappled light of the gnarled firs, her profile looked strangely haunting. Realizing that in a moment she'd be gone, Magne found his throat constricting.

“Wait!” It came out in a weird croak and he had to force himself to take a deep breath. “Wait. Am I going to – to see you around?”

Again Linn hesitated and maybe she wasn't supposed to be all alone out here, after all. Finally she grinned once more and gave a careless shrug. 

“Sure. If you don't have anything better to do.”

Magne knew that he was smiling stupidly, but he didn't care. 

“Tomorrow?”

The girl laughed and lifted her hand in a little gesture that might be signaling assent. Magne felt light, happy, as he waved back at her.

“Tomorrow, then. We could go looking for reindeer.”

“Or you could bring a picnic.”

With a last glance back, Linn seemed to melt into the woods. Maybe these summer holidays weren't going to be so bad, after all. With the Jutuls gone on what was ostensibly a long holiday and Gry busy helping out with the elementary school's summer camp, Magne hadn't known what to do with himself. When he'd asked Laurits to go hiking together – or maybe even take the bus to Bergen for a day in the city – he'd been unceremoniously brushed off. After the battle against Vidar and the scandal the discovery of the barrels had caused, weeks and weeks of free time had seemed … anticlimactic. Now he felt lighter, almost excited.

*

They didn't see any reindeer, but they climbed the ridge facing the fjord and looked out over the water. This time Linn was wearing ratty old sneakers and cutoffs, scrambling effortlessly over rocks and fallen trees. Magne had brought way too much food, apples and snacks and sandwiches and a few pieces of cold lasagna that had somehow survived yesterday's dinner. Laurits had caught him raiding the fridge and asked snidely whether he was looking to provision an army, but he hadn't cared. Linn smiled as he laid out the food on a boulder, eyes wide and innocent. 

“For me?”

Magne nodded, liking the way her smile deepened as she chose a cookie and bit into it. They ate in silence with the sun beating down on them. With the cool wind rising from the sea, it felt like a perfect summer day. Idly toying with one of the leftover apples, Linn leaned back, eyes sweeping over the curving coastline.

“That's Edda down there, isn't it? It looks nice.”

From above, framed by the blue of the fjord and the darkness of the mountains, it did. Magne's mouth tightened.

“It's not. It's fucked up. See that factory, the one with all the chimneys? It's been poisoning the town for ages. People get sick and die and the ones in charge don't even care and-”

He barely managed to cut himself off, remembering Gry's reaction when he had tried to tell her what he was going through. What had happened every time he had tried to tell someone. Magne looked down. 

“Anyway, there was a huge scandal.”

Flushing a little under the girl's steady gaze, he suddenly thought how good it was to talk to someone who didn't know anything about him, who took his words at face value. Who didn't look at him like he was some kind of bomb waiting to explode. After a moment, he felt Linn's fingers brush over the back of his hand as if by accident. The small touch made something warm unfurl in Magne's chest and he felt himself relax a little. Maybe this time would be different. Linn's head was tilted, eyes dark, pensive.

“Have you ever thought about how that's what it's like everywhere? On the surface everything looks neat and tidy, but if you dig even a little there are all these secrets, all the dirty lies that were supposed to stay buried forever. No real poison, usually, but there's always … something. That's just what people are like.”

Magne shook his head, denial swift and instinctive even after everything he had been through.

“That's not true. Some places – some people are just what they seem. Honest and kind and caring.”

Linn's expression didn't change, but her lips curled in wry amusement.

“If you say so.”

“They are,” Magne insisted, not quite sure why it seemed so important that she believe him. Abruptly, Linn looked up, eyes bright again, piercing.

“Are you?”

He didn't know what to say.

*

They found blueberries in the woods facing inland, laughing at the way the ripe fruits burst on their tongues, staining hands and mouth a vibrant violet. Magne didn't mind ruining his old shirt. Maybe he'd use his allowance to buy a new one. Maybe he'd get Laurits to help him choose something nice.

*

“Do you have siblings?”

Linn was once more sprawling on the grass, absentmindedly scratching at a mosquito bite as she cast Magne a questioning glance. He blinked into the sky, momentarily blinded. It was another fine day with barely a cloud in sight.

“Yes. A younger brother.”

“Is he like you?”

Magne almost laughed, imagining Laurits's outrage at the suggestion. 

“Not so much. He's really clever. He gets good grades all the time and he's friends with all the popular kids at school. He's … he can be a little shit, but we always have each other's back when it counts.”

“A little shit, huh?”

Linn's voice sounded a bit choked, like she was trying to bite back laughter. Magne nodded enthusiastically. 

“You should see the stuff he gets away with. Mom doesn't know the half of it. I don't think she wants to know. It's always been like this. Even when he was little he'd sometimes say or do things that were just- Well, now he mostly makes fun of me.”

“You don't mind.” Said quietly, a simple statement without judgment or scorn. Magne released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. 

“I don't. I mean, maybe sometimes. But that's just Laurits being clever. It doesn't mean that he doesn't care.”

Which wasn't something he expected people to understand and maybe it wasn't easy being Laurits's brother, but Magne was pretty sure the same went for him, if in a somewhat different way. It had been easier when they had lived in the city where they had been able to go to different schools, but in Edda, with everything that had happened-

Realizing that he had fallen silent, Magne looked at Linn.

“What about you? Doesn't your family mind that you spend all your time out here on your own?”

“I can take care of myself.”

There was something sharp about the look in those blue eyes, something challenging. Magne instantly shook his head, thinking about the way she matched his pace during their adventures.

“That's not what I meant. I just thought maybe they want to spend time with you.”

“You don't want to meet any more?”

“No! That's not-”

He must have looked seriously panicked, because Linn burst out laughing.

“Relax! I'm just fucking with you. I have siblings, too. Two brothers, who keep my parents very, very busy. If I stick around the cabin, I get roped into some stupid family activity and I'd much rather be free to do as I please.”

The girl's eyes were still bright with amusement and, looking at her flushed face, Magne suddenly remembered waking up that morning. He'd been hard, which wasn't anything new, only this time, when he had reached down to stroke himself to a hushed orgasm, it hadn't been Gry's sweet smile that swam in front of his mind's eye as he thought of soft skin and warmth and the curves of a woman's body. He had found himself thinking of Linn instead: The way her body felt against his on the rare occasions she did lose her balance, the long, long stretch of her legs and the way she'd tilt her head and look up from under her lashes. It had been impossible to stop, a fantasy so intense it felt almost like … more. Her scent, the taste of salt and copper in his mouth, the nails of his free hand raking across his own thigh as he came all over his fingers. 

Magne quickly looked away.

*

Linn wouldn't come into town with him. It was one of the weird things about her Magne had learned not to question. She also didn't have a cellphone. He had asked about that, wondering whether her family was part of some kind of cult. She'd stared at him for a second before launching into increasingly torrid stories about demon worship and nightly rituals. By the time she got to her fears of being chosen for a virgin sacrifice, even Magne caught on to the fact that she was messing with him. When Lin explained about her Mom's idea of the yearly family vacation as a time of digital detox, both of them ended up doubling over with laughter.

*

“What do you want to do after high school?”

They were sitting side by side at the bank of a small brook, occasionally dipping their toes into the icy water. Very much aware of the warmth of the slim body beside him, Magne shifted.

“I … don't know.”

He might have blamed recent events, but truth to be told even before the world went crazy, Magne hadn't had any great plans. Wasn't the future something that just happened? Suddenly a bit embarrassed, he shrugged.

“I guess I have another year to decide. What about you?”

Linn bumped her knee against his thigh, toes circling lazily in the water.

“Go to college, I suppose. Do something fun. Be free.”

“Do you want to have a family? Some day, I mean.”

The girl's laugh was sharp, derisive.

“And that would be the opposite of fun and free.”

Magne blinked, not quite sure what to say. Linn wasn't looking at him, eyes fixed on some point among the trees. She'd been pensive all day, oddly withdrawn like she was thinking about something else. It made Magne want to kiss her. 

“What if you fall in love?”

“Love just means that it hurts worse once things start to go wrong.”

Said with a flat finality that made Magne shiver. He wanted to contradict Linn, to make her admit she didn't really think something as terrible as this, but then he remembered the way he had felt when he had seen Gry with Fjor – and he couldn't even try. Linn had turned towards him and the intensity he'd briefly glimpsed about her the first day they'd met was back, a strange pull that threatened to engulf him. Need hit him like a punch in the gut. He wanted to slide his hand into those dark curls and pull her close, could all but feel the softness of her hair, the warmth of her flesh. He had never done anything like this, shouldn't have been able to imagine Linn's taste and how it'd feel when her mouth yielded. He wasn't just Magne, though, not anymore, and he could imagine. She was so close, the beautiful curve of her mouth a scant few inches away. Perhaps Linn had read his intent in his eyes or he had made some small movement, because she drew a sharp breath. Her hand shot up, slim, pale fingers pressing against Magne's lips. Those blue eyes were blazing.

“I will not be chained. Not even by a man. Particularly not by a man.”

And no matter how badly it had hurt to see Gry in Fjor's arms, Magne was not prepared to believe that this was all that there was to falling in love. There had to be … more. He couldn't say anything, wouldn't have found the right words even if she had allowed him to speak, so he simply pressed a kiss into Linn's palm. She snatched her hand back like she had been burned and then she was scrambling to her feet. A moment later, she was gone.

*

Two days. Linn didn't come back for two days. Magne roamed the mountainside alone until the roar of a rising thunderstorm forced him back into town. Edda, seemed even bleaker than usual, desolate even. He'd left some chocolate bars in their clearing along with a note that was probably drenched by now, which might be for the best. He wasn't any good with words. The third day didn't look to be any different. Magne waited, fingers were drumming against his thigh and he found himself wishing for a tangle. When she finally appeared, she held herself very straight, head high, sharp features set into cool lines. Magne's stomach plummeted. He had hoped- He didn't know what he had been hoping. Then Linn was right in front of him, hands pressing on his shoulders to keep him seated. When she leaned down, her hair brushed Magne's face. Her lips were soft, insistent, swallowing his gasp of surprise. The kiss didn't last long. A slow slide of lips, sweet and gentle, followed by a bold nudge of tongue and the brief sting of teeth. When Linn pulled back, a faint flush stained those high cheekbones and she drew a deep breath as if she needed to steady herself. Her smile was defiant.

“There. Now it's my fault. I kissed you first.”

It was a weird thing to say and Magne might have asked her about it, except that his body had different ideas. He surged up, clumsily slotting their mouths together. Their teeth clacked and the force of the movement made Linn almost stumble. From one second to the next everything seemed to slot into place: His hand slid into her hair to cup the vulnerable curve of her nape and she tilted her head, lips parting readily as the kiss deepened. Her slim body pressed closer and his arms came up, hands settling into the dip of her waist. She felt utterly and completely right against him. Magne knew that he ought to keep his eyes shut – all the movies said so – but he needed to look. He caught only glimpses, the delicate shell of Linn's ear, the curve of her jaw, the long, pale line of her throat. Linn bit at his lower lips – perhaps by way of reprimand – but instead of pulling away she pushed at his shoulders until he let himself relax and they tumbled into the soft grass. 

They lay side by side, feet entangled, so close they were breathing the same air. It was the most natural thing in the world to kiss her again and this time Magne got it right at the first try, gently, sweetly, melding their lips together.

*

After long weeks in the sunshine, a smattering of freckles appeared in the bridge of Linn's nose. She disdained plums, but loved apples, digging even, white teeth into their crisp flesh with a relish that matched his own. Her eyes were blue, but seen up close there seemed to be little specks of green and gold floating in them, pinpricks of light in a pale, morning sky. When she was happy, the world was suddenly brighter, but her mood could change within seconds for reasons impossible to fathom. Linn was fearless, never slowing down once she'd decided to run, jumping whatever obstacles might block her way. She never smoked in front of him, but sometimes the smell of cigarettes clung to her hair. When he asked her about it, she merely laughed, utterly unembarrassed. She didn't seemed to care about the state of her clothes, but whatever she put on, she wore with such conviction it was impossible not to think her beautiful. Sometimes, when they were resting after a day of adventures or walking among the fragrant shadows of the ancients firs, she grew quiet, thoughtful, and there was something almost like sadness lurking behind her smile. 

Magne couldn't quite call her pretty or kind. She was too vibrant for those words to fit. At the right moment, seen from the right angle, Linn was beautiful. At other times, her features seemed a little too sharp, her slanting eyes shuttered, wary. The same wariness was echoed in her thoughts, making them twist and turn in ways Magne found utterly fascinating but couldn't always agree with. If love was a trap, he'd fallen into it.

*

It was another bright, sun-drenched day. Linn's face was right above him and Magne thought that he would never get tired of looking at her. His head was resting in her lap, long legs stretched out in front of him. Her blue eyes were wide, uncharacteristically soft as she ran gentle fingertips over his brow and jaw and lips. The past few days had been a revelation and Magne still felt awe and joy at the way the world seemed to have tumbled upside down. Linn's long, dark hair was falling into his face and he blew at a stray strand, liking the way it tickled his nose. She was beautiful. He opened his mouth to tell her so and instantly her slim index finger slipped past his lips to press against his tongue. 

“Tell me a secret.”

Magne blinked, too caught up in Linn's touch for the words to fully register.

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand, all ostentatious exasperation. 

“A secret, Magne. Tell me one of your secrets and I'll tell you one of mine.”

Even half a year ago, Magne would have said that he didn't have any secrets. He believed in telling the truth, couldn't understand why no one else seemed to feel the same way. As far as he could tell, everything would be so much easier, if people were just up front with each other. Now, though... He wanted to tell Linn about being Thor, wanted more than anything else to have her believe him. He was just as terrified of losing her. Magne bit his lip.

“The weather has been so nice because I want to keep seeing you.”

Linn's laughter was bright and happy, amused rather than derisive. The weather had been unusual, sunny day after sunny day and every evening Magne went to bed with the fervent wish that it should stay this way. It felt like magic and perhaps it was. Linn's fingers resumed to trail over his jaw and neck. Looking up at her smiling face, Magne could imagine saying the rest of it: 'I am really strong. I can call down lightning. I am the god Thor.' Then he suddenly realized that Linn's smile had faded and she was strangely quiet. Hadn't she promised him a secret as well? Was there something she couldn't say? It didn't seem possible. Linn wasn't afraid of anything. As if in response to that thought, she bent forward to entwine their fingers.

“I want you to touch me.”

A low whisper, like the greatest of secrets. She drew his hand to her breast and suddenly there was nothing but the soft warmth of her flesh and the rushing flutter of her heartbeat under his palm. Touching her came naturally. Magne's hands seemed to remember how to fit themselves around a small waist, how to follow supple curves and cup and tease until Linn's breath was coming as fast as his own. When she twisted out of his arms, her mouth was swollen, kiss-bruised and her dress was creased and rumpled. He had no idea how much time had passed, couldn't deny the insistent throb of arousal. 

*

The scream ripped the air. It echoed through the mountains, thrown back from the cliffs until it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, a terrifying roar that kept rising and rising. Linn reared up from where she had been resting against him, surging to her feet in one fluid motion. Magne, too, pushed himself up, his whole body tensing even as his hands groped for a weapon that wasn't there. He gasped, sucking in air that was suddenly too thick to breathe. Next to him, Linn stood facing the sea, lips pressed together like she was biting back an answering roar. For a moment, he could imagine her screaming, head thrown back, fierce and feral and all the more beautiful for her power. The noise faded and Magne shook his head to clear it.

“Did you... did you hear that?”

Linn shuddered, shoulders slumping as her body relaxed. Her dark hair whipped around her face as she shook her head.

“Some animal, I suppose. Does it matter?”

Magne's stomach swooped at her smile and then she was back against him, mouth hard, demanding. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled or maybe that, too, was only in his mind.

*

“Are you sure that this is all right?” Magne asked for what felt like the tenth time. Linn cast an amused glance over her shoulder even as her fingers were flitting over the key pad next to the front door.

“Would I have the security code if it wasn't?”

Magne shifted, not quite sure what to say. He trusted Linn, obviously, would follow her to the edge of the world, but he couldn't shake the sense that they shouldn't be here. Even the first glance of the cabin, dark and bulky among the trees, had sent a small shudder down his spine. It was certainly a far cry from the ramshackle hut his mother had had to sell after their father's death.  
The door swung open and Linn stepped inside without hesitation, steps quick and sure as she made her way down the hallway.

“Are you coming?”

The inside of the cabin was as flawless as the outside, all gleaming dark wood, and huge windows. The modern furniture contrasted sharply with the rustic setting, gleaming chrome and leather dominating the room. Even to Magne's untrained eye it was obvious that all of it had been expensive. Linn had opened the fridge and was critically studying its contents.

“Are you sure that this is ok,” he repeated, knowing that he shouldn't. Linn laughed as she picked out a bottle and opened it with practiced motions.

“I told you, this place belongs to friends of my family. Don't be a big baby. We're here to enjoy ourselves.”

There was nothing to do but accept the glass he was offered. It was sparkling wine, which he'd had at the Jutuls' and liked just fine. Not as much as he'd liked the mead, though. Linn downed her glass and immediately poured herself another. For the first time Magne noticed that for all that she was clearly trying for nonchalance, there was something brittle about her cheer. It was the last week of the summer holidays. Magne hastily gulped down another mouthful of wine. He knew what Linn thought of love, but surely she would-? Surely she wouldn't-? Their summer had meant something. He was certain of it. He just needed to find the right words...

Linn pressed close, lashes sweeping down to veil darkened eyes. She pressed a brief kiss to his lips, the scent rising from her skin and hair intoxicating. 

“Stay here. I'll be right back.”

How was it possible that someone so easy to talk to was so hard to pin down whenever he needed to say something? Magne uneasily looked around. Everything was so starkly modern, so ostensibly expensive it made his skin itch. The champagne flute felt delicate in his hands, the thin glass so fragile between his fingers he quickly put it down. How much time had passed since Linn had left? A few more minutes had trickled by. Not quite sure what to do, Magne wandered into the living room. A huge TV took up one of the walls and the sofa in front of it could easily seat six people. At its back, several floor length windows opened to the stark beauty of the coast, but instead of highlighting the glory of the fjords, it seemed to reduce them to a backdrop. There was something about this place, something that-

“Didn't I tell you not to go anywhere?”

Instantly all thoughts were wiped from Magne's mind. Linn was wearing a shimmering dress that barely skimmed the top of her thighs. She was so beautiful, all smooth, pale skin and endless legs and Magne couldn't help but stare, speechless and dumbstruck. Even the old part of him that sometimes came to his aid when his mind balked at a challenge stayed silent, as awed as the rest of him. Linn never gave him a chance to recover. She took his hand and led him back into the hallway and up a flight of stairs. The room they entered was bright and airy, all further details lost on Magne when he was pushed to sit on the big bed at its center. Mouth dry, he looked up at her. He hadn't known- He hadn't thought-

For once, Linn, too, seemed to be nervous, because she drew several deep breaths before she finally shook her head, dark curls tumbling around her face.

“Well, aren't you going to do something?”

And, yes. Yes. For all her brave words, she shivered as his hands settled on her hips. The fabric felt slick under his fingers, almost wet, and he could trace the delicate line of her hipbones. Her heartbeat was fluttering in his ears and in spite of the heat coiling in his belly, Magne felt a sudden rush of protective warmth. She was so slim, so soft. He could hurt her so easily. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe- But then, with something between a gasp and a sob, Linn bent down and pressed her mouth to his. Her dress slipped off her shoulders and to the ground. Magne couldn't suppress a groan as she pushed at his chest and then both of them were falling onto the bed. Linn's were pulling at his shirt, at his belt and Magne groaned again, back arching helplessly. He was desperately hard, cock twitching as it was exposed to the cool air. 

“Please,” he managed, not quite sure what he was asking for. That she slow down before he embarrassed himself completely. That she never stop. Linn's chin dipped as she took a moment to study his erection, fingers curling to loosely circle the shaft. It was all Magne could do not to come right on the spot. When Linn didn't look up again, he bit his lip, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clouding his mind.

“I don't- We don't have to do this. It's-”

“You really don't need to worry about me.”

Linn's voice was light, teasing, but when she did lift her head, there was a wild glint in her eyes, the kind that usually appeared before she said something outrageous. Then her grip tightened. Just like that, he was lost, groaning helplessly as he buried his face against the crook of Linn's neck. It was so good, so much better than his own hand, and he couldn't- The pleasure was mounting too quickly, but when he tried to pull away, Linn wound her free arm around his waist and clung closer, clever fingers teasing and twisting in a way that rushed shocks of sensation up his spine. Linn's breath was hot in his ear and she was whispering his name, voice low and urgent. Irresistible. Magne came hard, barely managing to bite back on a scream as lightning crackled through his veins. It was glorious.

It was mortifying. Magne couldn't move, body boneless, heavy as he slumped against the headboard. Linn was so close, smile turned sweet, blue eyes dark, pupils blown. She brought her messy hand to her mouth, pink tongue darting out for a taste. 

“Well, that's out of the way.”

She sounded breathless and a little bit smug, but all that was forgotten when she kissed him again. Magne wouldn't have thought himself capable of moving, but his hands were skimming Linn's flanks, her thighs, the way they had done dozens of times through layers of clothes. This much he knew how to do and then there was slickness against his fingertips, silky curls and velvety folds of flesh. Linn gasped, hips rocking into his touch. It was all new, except somehow it wasn't and he knew exactly how to crook his fingers, how to circle and press and slip them inside. She was so beautiful, lips forming a soft 'o' as she drew a sharp breath. One of her hands came up to cling to his shoulder while the other moved down, grasping his wrist and adjusting the angle just so. Magne felt the muscles in her legs tense, felt her tremble as she pushed back against his fingers. He didn't know how long it lasted, mesmerized by the way she moved, by the way her scent grew sharp and musky and her heartbeat kept speeding up and up. She was panting against his mouth, too distracted to kiss properly, utterly undone by two fingers buried in her body and a thumb angled up and pressing in just right. Magne felt the muscles in her legs tense, felt her tremble. Finally she gave a breathless cry and slumped, sweaty and boneless and lovelier than ever. He gently lowered both of them down so that they lay entangled, Linn's lithe body sheltered gently in the circle of his arms. 

Magne knew that he was grinning stupidly as he pulled the sheets around them, creating a cocoon of muted light and soft touches. Before soon they were kissing again and there was so much left to explore: the play of muscles under soft skin, all the different ways their bodies fit together and the secret places that would tighten and tremble and turn slick and inviting. Finally, after coming once more, they drifted off. 

*

He knew that Linn was gone before he even opened his eyes. The room felt different somehow, colder. For long minutes he lay completely still, mind numb, fracturing. He couldn't even say how he knew that Linn had left for good, that she wouldn't be back tomorrow. Time passed. It always did. Finally Magne got up. Linn had said to leave everything the way it was, that the housekeeper would come around the following day, but he stripped the bed anyway and bundled up the stained sheets. It did hurt, worse even than the raging despair he had felt when he had seen Gry in Fjor's arms. Worse than anything he could remember. Magne walked unseeing down the stairs and through the living room. When he pulled the cabin's front door shut behind himself, the cold mountain air hit him like a slap in the face. 

By the time Magne made it back into town, he felt numb. He had pushed himself hard, running rather than walking, ignoring the dull ache that had settled in the center of his chest. The windows of their house were bright and, stepping inside, he heard his Mom in the kitchen. Toeing off his shoes, he moved as quietly as he could. He made it to his room without encountering anyone. It was dark, but he didn't bother to switch on the lights. His skin still smelled of Linn. Magne lay down on his rickety old bed, curling up so small he fit into its original frame. He pressed his lips together, afraid that if he were to open his mouth, he would scream. His thoughts were rattling around his skull like so many broken-winged birds. At some point his mom asked whether he wanted dinner and he managed to cobble together some vague reply about a big lunch in town and a belly ache. He wasn't sure she believed him, but at some point she went away and everything was quiet. He slept. He dreamed.

The women were ageless, gaunt, wraith-like figures moving through mist and twisting roots. They were beautiful and terrible, dark-eyed and hard-faced and as graceful as dancers. Their voices were whispering all around him, hanging in the air like cobwebs. Urd. Skuld. Verdandi. Magne knew that he was dreaming, but at the same time this place was more real than the world he lived in. One of the Norns drifted closer, lengths of unevenly woven thread dangling from her pale fingers. It never occurred to him to be afraid. Her fingers brushed his chest, cool even through layers of clothes. For a moment something about the way she moved, the way her hair curled against her neck, reminded him so much of Linn he couldn't breathe. Skuld – for some reason he knew it was Skuld – peered up at him, head tilted like a curious bird. After a moment she stepped back, gliding across the carpet of dead leaves and lush green moss. At the edge of the pool she knelt and dipped her fingers into its dark waters. Her sleeves and the hem of her robes were drenched as she rose, clinging to her slim form as she returned to his side. She offered him water in her cupped hands. He was afraid now, heart hammering as he bowed his head to drink. The water tasted strange, metallic and pungent. Calm settled over him like a veil being dropped. Skuld was watching him, mouth unsmiling, eyes as dark and bottomless. At this moment she was beautiful, as lovely as spring. A Goddess. Already turning away, she lifted a long-fingered, elegant hand in a wordless gesture. Her sisters were already waiting for her, eternally busy measuring the lives of men and gods. They might entangle threads, weave love or hatred into the pattern of time, and send death into the dark of the night with the snip of a pair of scissors. It was destiny. Why had he been grieving? Linn might have left, but she would return. She always did, in the end. Linn...?

Magne woke up feeling rested, energized. It was only just getting light when he made his way to the bathroom. There was a strange taste in his mouth, rich and earthy, unlike anything he could remember. The water of the shower felt heavenly against Magne's skin. He turned the temperature down until the soft spray resembled a summer rain, the kind that fell sweetly, steadily, drenching the hungry earth and nurturing the crops. It was a weird thought, one that didn't have any place in his life as it was now. He carefully avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he reached for a towel. Magne was getting used to the weirdness in his life, but seeing himself as Thor was still deeply disquieting. He should have told Linn. He would tell Linn. Somehow. 

The kitchen was still dark when he got downstairs, so Magne busied himself starting breakfast. His Mom would have worried the previous night. The previous months, really. The morning passed quickly, filled with chores and inane, everyday matters. It was boring and everything he needed right now. Although the thought of Linn was never far from his mind, the sense of loss was gentler now, its edges dulled. She would find her way back to him. He couldn't quite say how he knew, but he did. He knew with the same terrifying certainty that had told him that he was right about the Jutuls, knew with a conviction older than time, lodged in the marrow of his bones.

Magne spent the afternoon in town, buying some stuff he'd need for school. He carefully avoided the supermarket. The truce of the summer was almost over. The Jutuls would be back soon, if they hadn't arrived already and Magne was under no illusion as to what that meant. It was impossible to deny that some part of him thrilled at the promise of war. 

When he got back to the house, he found his mom in the kitchen. She was stirring spices into a pan filled with mincemeat. It was Friday. For a moment, all Magne wanted to do was step up to her and rest his head against her shoulder. He did pull her into a brief hug, which seemed to surprise her a bit. His Mom seemed small in his arms, frailly human. When she told him to go and set the table, he did so without complaint. Laurits was nowhere in sight, which was typical, really. In all probability, he'd show up at the last possible moment, when all the preparations were done and they were about to sit down and eat. Except that he didn't show up even when the food was on the table and he had called upstairs twice. This was so not typical. Repeatedly glancing at the deserted hallway, Magne realized that he had seen neither hide nor hair of his brother all day. Finally his mother clicked her tongue and said to start eating. He listened to her talk about work, but he knew better than to voice any opinions. She really didn't want to hear anything he had to say about what remained of Jutul Industries. Once they were done eating, he helped clear away the dishes and piled the few remaining tacos onto a plate.

“Laurits will be hungry.”

The smile lighting up his mother's face made her seem younger, grateful in a way that made Magne feel vaguely guilty. He hadn't been around much, hadn't been paying attention to either her or his brother, too caught up in his own happiness with Linn to think about – anything else, really. Knocking at Laurits's door yielded only silence. A second knock produced a muffled 'fuck off'. Magne knew better than to try and argue with his brother, so he simply kept knocking. Finally the door was yanked open.

“What?!”

Magne wordlessly held out the full plate. Laurits looked from the tacos to his face and back again. He looked pale, drawn, skin drawn tight over the sharp bones of his face. His eyes were red-rimmed. Magne swallowed hard, trying to imagine what could have made his detached, acerbic brother look like this. He really should have paid more attention. He knew, didn't he? Laurits might moan and complain endlessly about any little thing, but when something was truly wrong he hid away to lick his wounds in private.

“Are you hungry?” he finally tried, not really knowing what else to say. Laurits huffed.

“Didn't I tell you to fuck off? Seriously, Magne. Just leave me alone.”

There was no sting in his words, though, no real venom. Magne shifted, not quite ready to give up. Finally, with an exaggerated eyeroll, Laurits reached for the plate. 

“Now will you go away?”

When Laurits turned away without slamming the door, Magne followed him into the room. It was as untidy as ever, even if he didn't recognize most of the stuff lying around. When they had been smaller, they had shared toys and adventures and most of the clothes Laurits possessed had been worn by Magne first. So much had changed since then. And of course that made him think of Linn and how much he missed her. He stole a glance at his brother.

“Is it … is it Fjor?”

Laurits's sneer was clearly meant to convey that he had got it all wrong. Magne would have liked to push, if only he had known how. He put down the food, instead. And maybe it was true that misery loved company, because sharing lukewarm tacos with his brother while watching stupid clips on YouTube, a curious sense of peace descended. Perhaps it was just that it was good not to be alone. Only a bit of tortilla heaped with meat and sour cream remained and while Magne would have liked to finish it, he pushed the plate at his brother. Laurits really couldn't afford to miss a meal. As if he was somehow reading his thoughts, the corners of his brother's mouth twitched.

“You really need to stop worrying about me.”

The End.


End file.
